For Tirion
by Deadly Chakram
Summary: When Pippin overhears Legolas’ whispered words before fighting the orcs in Moria, he wonders at the meaning of them. In the refuge of Lothlorien, he asks him about it and learns a little about Legolas’ painful past. Mithril Awards quarterfinalist.


"For Tirion"

SUMMARY: When Pippin overhears Legolas' whispered words before fighting the orcs in Moria, he wonders at the meaning of them. In the refuge of Lothlorien, he asks the elven prince about it and learns a little about Legolas' painful past and why his skill as a warrior is so important to him. One shot vignette.

RATED: PG

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I do not in any way, shape, or form own any of the Lord of the Rings characters or places. I am not in incarnation of the great J.R.R. Tolkien either. I make absolutely no money whatsoever from this story, with the exception of reviews from readers like you. So please, enjoy the story and leave a review if you like it! yeah, yeah, shameless begging

LOTR – LOTR - LOTR – LOTR - LOTR – LOTR - LOTR – LOTR - LOTR –

Night had settled over Lothlorien and the exhausted Fellowship lay beneath the whispering trees wrapped in the deep sleep that only grief can bring. They had only arrived within those woods as the guests of the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel that very day. It was now only one day since Gandalf had fallen in Moria, as he stood alone against the Balrog, that foul creature of shadow and flame. One full day had passed, and yet the grief at losing the wizard had not yet subsided.

Legolas wandered back to the sleeping area where all the Fellowship now lay, lost to their dreams. He had left shortly after the first of them had fallen asleep, wishing to be among the Lorien elves while he had the opportunity. He had found the company of the Marchwarden Haldir to be particularly comforting and less awkward than that of the Fellowship. Perhaps it was Haldir's elven heritage that made it possible for the young prince to be so open. To have admitted his feelings to the Fellowship would have been impossibly difficult, he had decided, for he was unused to death, especially when it came to beloved friends. Surely he had seen Mirkwood elves die in battle before, as he had been side by side with his father during the Battle of Five Armies, but none of them had been particularly close friends of his, a fact which he was always silently thankful for. In fact, it had been several centuries since he had lost anyone close to him at all.

And then there was Gimli. Legolas snorted at the thought of showing open emotion before a dwarf. Surely in the short span of time since Gandalf had fallen, the two had put aside some differences, but Gimli was still a dwarf and far from being a friend. Aragorn, perhaps, was the only one among the group that the elf was totally comfortable with, though he had taken a fondness to the hobbits, Merry and Pippin in particular.

Legolas reached the clearing where the Fellowship slept and began unfolding the pelt of soft deer fur that he used for a bedroll. That was when a curly tousled head popped out from beneath a bedroll before the prince, taking him a little off guard. Legolas laughed as the hobbit yawned.

"Go back to sleep, Pippin, it is only me," he said softly.

"I am not really all that tired," countered the hobbit.

"Neither am I," Legolas admitted.

"Good," replied Pippin. "Then we can keep each other company. I do not really want to be alone."

"As Aragorn pointed out, these borders are well protected," Legolas said. "You can rest easy."

"It is not that. There is a peace here I have not felt since I left the Shire, or at least since Frodo woke up in Rivendell," said Pippin, coming out from under the flap of his own bedroll. "But now Gandalf is gone and everyone has grown so quiet. It is unnerving."

Legolas nodded his head in agreement. "Do you think that is the source of your restlessness?"

It was now Pippin's place to nod his agreement. "And what of you? We have not seen you much since supper."

"There was much that I wished to speak about with the elves," said Legolas vaguely.

"About Gandalf?"

"Yes," Legolas admitted. "He was a dear friend for as far back as I can remember. But let us not talk of that. For me, the grief of losing Mithrandir is still far too near."

"If that is your wish," replied Pippin as he came up to sit upon the top of Legolas' bedroll.

For several long moments, the two sat side by side without a word passing between them. Finally, Pippin felt as if he could not take the silence any longer. He turned sharply to the prince.

"Legolas, there is something that I wanted to ask you, if I may."

A warm, inviting smile passed over the prince's face. "Go right ahead."

"Well, remember when we were back in Moria and found the dwarven tomb?"

"Aye, that was Balin," Legolas said with a soft nod.

"You said something in there, right before the orcs and troll came bursting through the door. I only barely heard the whisper, but it sounded like 'for Tirion.' What does that mean?"

The smile melted from Legolas' face and the twinkle in his eyes vanished. "You ask me to speak of worse grief than the fall of Mithrandir."

Pippin cast his eyes down. "Oh. You do not have to speak of it if you do not wish to. I am sorry for bringing it up."

Legolas shook his head, the hair covering it seeming silver white in the moonlight. "No, I shall tell you," he said as he gave the hobbit a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder to show him that he was not upset. "Tirion was my little brother."

"You have a brother?" Pippin asked.

"I did once," Legolas said. "He was taken by the forces of evil long ago."

Pippin gasped. "I am so sorry," he repeated.

Legolas waved his hand, showing that Pippin's words were not needed. In his own heart, the prince wondered briefly why he had even agreed to answer the young hobbit's question. Perhaps it was the innocence written in Pippin's face, perhaps it was the sincerity in his words. Or perhaps it was because in the short time that the Fellowship had been together, he had come to trust the hobbit. There was a purity and a goodness, if not even a sense of naivety, in Pippin that was refreshing to be around. Surely all of the Fellowship possessed a good soul, though Legolas was steadily growing more mistrustful of Boromir without being able to put his finger on why. But with Pippin, things were different.

"What happened?" the hobbit asked curiously.

"The woods of my homeland have long been plagued by evil," Legolas began. "Orcs, wargs, and evil spiders all haunt those woods and my people have suffered greatly at their hands."

Pippin nodded. "Bilbo often recounted his adventure to the Lonely Mountain. I never liked the part when he was in Mirkwood. It always sounded so dreary and scary."

"Perhaps to those who do not live in the woods it is," the prince replied, "but to me, it is beautiful. And it was not always a dark, ominous place to others. Long ago it was called Greenwood the Great and was a mighty and prosperous kingdom. But then the servants of Morgoth came and sullied the woods with their evil. Evil spiders came to hunt the elves and the Dark Lord made his home in the tower of Dol Guldur in southern Mirkwood. But that is a story for another time. The story of Tirion takes place much later, after centuries of struggle between my people and the evil. I was the eldest son of King Thranduil and my brother Tirion was the youngest child. It was just the two of us and as you might imagine, my brother and I were very close to one another. Surely we had many friends, but we were each other's best friend nonetheless. There were only ten years difference in our ages and we had the same group of friends. All of us from a young age liked to pretend that we were brave elven warriors of the Mirkwood army, protecting our home from the onslaught of our enemies. None of us were old enough at that time to wield a weapon of any sorts other than small hunting daggers, for the eldest of us was myself and I was then only twenty five, barely even half grown according to elven standards. So instead of mock battles, which we did hold with wooden swords, we often played games consisting of hunting and tracking exercises."

"Hobbit children play those in the Shire," Pippin commented. "Some of the children will hide while the others seek them out after an allotted time."

Legolas nodded. "That was the basic premise for our own game, though we made it a true tracking exercise. Those who were to hide would leave false trails for the trackers to follow, trying to throw them off of the true tracks. As you might imagine, when first we began to play these games our trails were quite simple, but as we grew older we made our game more sophisticated. In any case, Tirion was one of the best at leaving trails, though he was the youngest of us all. So we often let him be the one to hide and he always relished the chance to utterly perplex us, if he could, with his techniques. This one particular autumn day, it was myself, Tirion, and two other elves playing our tracking game. Tirion and Haloisi had hidden and myself and Isilme were working to find them. Haloisi we found fairly quickly and he soon was helping us look for Tirion."

"Where was he hiding?" Pippin asked, unable to help himself and Legolas laughed.

"For more than an hour we searched every possible place we could think of within the gates of the city. Then Isilme lit upon a path we had missed and than led us directly south, to the very edge of the protected gated city. There was a little used entrance there that none had used since before Sauron had come into the woods. Elven magic protected it and so it was permanently sealed closed. Here the path ended, but Tirion was nowhere in sight. It began to grow late and the sun began to set, throwing golden light into the clearing. Haloisi and Isilme knew that I was growing worried and they climbed the one tree that grew in the center of the clearing. I came up behind them and was nearly halfway to the top when I heard the screams."

Here Pippin's face paled and he swallowed hard. "What happened?"

Legolas grew even more somber as the memory played out before his waking eyes. "When I reached the top of the tree, I was high enough to look over the high walls and could see Tirion laying there. He moved not a muscle and I feared the worst. That was when I became aware of low hisses coming from beyond the walls. I knew that the spiders were nearby and I yelled for Isilme to run for help, for among us, she was the fleetest of foot. The tree sensed my distress and I pleaded with it to move its branches so that I could reach the top of the wall. From there I could easily jump down to where Tirion lay. I was equipped only with my small dagger, as was Haloisi, but my brother was in trouble. Reluctantly, the tree complied with my wishes and I was carried within a safe distance to leap to the top of the sheer stone wall. Once on top, I drew my dagger and jumped down, only just in time to see the first of the oversized, swollen bodies come from the dark shadows of the deepening twilight."

"Did the spiders attack you?" Pippin asked, his eyes wide, and Legolas thought that he looked much like a young elfling listening to a bedtime story.

Legolas nodded his head. "Before I knew what was happening, Haloisi was by my side and we found ourselves utterly surrounded. The two of us stood back to back, daggers raised, afraid to make the first move and afraid to wait for the attack to come. I do not remember much of what it was that went through my head, but I found myself leaping at the closest spider to me. In an instant, I was upon it and my dagger pierced the skull of the creature. The other spiders, perhaps thrown off guard by an attack from such a young elf, now all mobilized at once. Haloisi and I were attacked from every angle and had no real hope of winning the fight. We were utterly out numbered."

"That must have been terrifying!" Pippin exclaimed, his voice just above a whisper. Nearby, Gimli stirred briefly in his sleep, but after a moment, he returned to his deep snores.

Legolas nodded at the hobbit's outburst. "It was, but not for the reason you might think. Through the battle I was dimly aware of a second group of spiders moving in from the shadows. Some came to aid the ones attacking Haloisi and myself. Most were making ready to bear away Tirion to their lair to feast upon. But my brother was too far from me and I was steadily losing ground to the spiders. Then I became aware that Haloisi was no longer guarding my back and terror seized me. Chancing a glance around, I saw him laying upon the ground, a spider above him, wrapping him in webbing. He too had been bitten by one of the creatures. In that moment, a spider leapt upon me from the back and a searing pain washed over me."

"Did one of the spiders bite you?"

"Yes. I fell to the ground face first, my eyes growing darker as I began to succumb to the numbing effects of the venom. Then somehow, I came to realize that the spiders were starting to fall back, Haloisi, Tirion, and myself forgotten about for the moment. That was when I heard from behind me the distinct song of my father's bow. That was also that last thing that I knew before the venom enveloped me. When next I awoke it was the following morning and I was within the healing houses, several wizened old healers hovering about. They cried for joy to see me awake and called for my father, who, from what I am told, had been relentlessly pacing the halls since the three of us had been brought there the previous day. I think that I had somehow imagined the look of relief that would cover my father's face upon finding me awake. But it was not so. When I looked upon his face I saw a confused mixture of grief and relief written there. For you see, the healers' antidote had worked for me, but Tirion had never responded to the treatment. Prolonged exposure to the venom matched with his young age had proven fatal. Just before the dawn he had passed into the Halls of Mandos."

"How awful!" said Pippin, to which Legolas sadly nodded his head. "And what of the other elf?"

"Haloisi lived, though it took him longer to respond to the medicine and the healers were quite uncertain if he would make it," replied Legolas. "Things were never quite the same once Tirion was gone. I think that his death affected my mother the most greatly. She became withdrawn into herself, grew quiet, and lost all joy in the world. Just after the first full year since Tirion had passed away, she told her leave of Middle Earth and went over the sea into Valinor. As for my father, the loss of both his young son and his beloved wife was a great strain and there were many who feared that the heartbreak would kill him. But he is a strong elf and survived. I do not think that he ever blamed me for Tirion's death."

"That is well. It was not your fault."

Legolas shrugged his shoulders. "He told me as much one time, but I have still always carried some morsel of guilt within me for what happened. If I had only stayed close to Tirion that day, if only I had been more skilled as a warrior…such have always been the thoughts in my head."

"So that is what 'for Tirion' means? It is a remembrance of your brother?" asked Pippin.

"Not just a remembrance Pippin, but a renewal of a promise I made. The day that we buried my brother, I stood alone at the sight, wishing a private moment. As I stood there by the fresh grave I made a promise to Tirion. I promised him that I would train hard and become a great warrior to fight back the evils of Morgoth and Sauron. It mattered not if any considered it my duty to protect Mirkwood, being the prince, but all would be done in his memory and for the sake of all that is good in Middle Earth. I vowed that one day I would see Mirkwood restored and all evil banished from the woods."

"So that is why you were so eager to be a part of the Fellowship," Pippin said, understanding flooding his voice. "If Sauron is defeated, then perhaps your woods will be cleansed."

Legolas nodded his head slightly with a soft sigh that Pippin caught. The hobbit's questioning looks did not go unnoticed and Legolas felt compelled to explain. "What you say is true," he said at length, choosing his words carefully. "There is a better chance at purging the evil from Mirkwood once the Enemy is slain. But what peace the elves might enjoy in Arda shall be short lived."

"What do you mean?"

"The time of the elves is drawing to a close, Pippin," replied Legolas, speaking softly as if he were merely speaking to his own self and not to the young hobbit. "Whether or not the Fellowship is successful in our Quest, the elves will still depart from these shores and sail west to the Undying Lands."

"But if the elves are to leave Middle Earth, then…" said Pippin, faltering in his speech, though he did not need to finish his question. Legolas knew what it was that the hobbit meant.

"The idea of fighting alongside the Fellowship is my chance to do the greatest deed that I can for Middle Earth, and in my brother's memory," he replied, with a shrug of his shoulders. "For me, it matters not if the elves stay one day in Middle Earth once the Ring is destroyed or if they linger here for another hundred years. But I made a promise to my brother, to see the evil in this world vanquished, though now it seems that it shall not be the Firstborn that profit from the peace. Still, I would not be able to live with myself if I abandoned Arda to its fate without lending my bow and myself to any effort to destroy Sauron."

"And we will be successful," Pippin reassured him, though to in his heart, the hobbit felt less confident than he sounded.

Legolas smiled warmly. "Indeed we shall. But now we must rest, for in the morning there will be much to do. Aragorn, I think, wishes to hold council with us, for now that Mithrandir is lost we must plan our future paths. We cannot guess as to what road he would have chosen for us after Moria and so a hard decision lies ahead for us."

"Perhaps you are right," said Pippin, stifling a yawn as he looked up to note the position of the moon in the sky. The hobbit stood and turning, threw his arms around the elf prince's neck in a tight embrace. "Thank you for sharing your story with me," he said quietly. Then he yawned again, stretching as he did so. Silently he made his way over the short distance from Legolas' bedroll to his own and snuggled down into the soft rabbit fur, whispering, "Goodnight, Legolas."

Legolas did not answer right away, but merely gazed at the small tousled head sticking out above the edge of the blanket. But Pippin was not who he was looking at. And suddenly the elf knew just what it was that had drawn him to the young hobbit. For it seemed for the moment that he was looking at his brother, looking much as he did so long ago at fifteen summers of age. There was a fire in Pippin that matched Tirion's spirit, Legolas noted and it manifested itself in the spark in the hobbit's eyes. The mischievous nature, the sincerity in his voice, the warmth of his personality, the quickness to laughter, and the fierce love of life that the hobbit possessed mirrored everything that Legolas had loved about his younger brother.

"Is something the matter?" Pippin asked, concerned at Legolas' sudden quietness.

"Nothing at all, Pippin. Nothing at all."

THE END


End file.
